


Survivor

by collegefangirl3791



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Endgame, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Badass Ladies, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Natasha Lives, Natasha Romanov Can Wield Mjolnir, Natasha Romanov is Worthy, exactly what it says on the box, the author explains nothing, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791
Summary: Natasha Romanoff comes back for the final battle and kicks some ass.





	Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I really liked Endgame, I don't wanna hate on it.
> 
> ...That being said, this is what I wish would have happened. It woulda been FANTASTIC. Natasha a queen and this is kind of my tribute I guess. Incidentally, listened to Survivor (Tomb Raider Remix) while I was writing this and it's a perfect mood for her.
> 
> Come say hello on my tumblr! (collegefangirl3791) Also leave a comment if you enjoy this at all. ;)

Steve looks across the torn-up ground at Thanos and the armies behind him, and focuses on the death grip he has on his shield, feeling like it’s a lifeline to his courage. This is it. He can feel it, almost, an inevitability. He has no chance, he knows that, but he’s here anyway. For everyone that was lost, for the people they tried so hard to get back, for Clint’s family and Scott’s and Tony’s. For Natasha. It’s always come down to this, and if he has to give everything up for them again - he will. There’s fear making his ears ring, making the world narrow down to one point of focus, but he feels nothing but calm.

He takes a deep breath.

Abruptly, to his left and slightly behind him, there’s a crackle of sound, flashes of golden light in a circle of fire, and Steve shifts, turning towards the movement, sudden hope flaring so fast in his chest that it almost hurts.

In his earpiece, a warm, cheerful voice crackles to life, making him want to cry, suddenly. “On your left.”

_ Sam. _

Out of the circle of light, three familiar figures step onto the scarred plain, and Steve lets out a sigh of relief, a triumphant burn beginning to build in his chest. If he held his shield any tighter, he’d break it. T’Challa, Okoye, Shuri, and then suddenly behind them, whole  _ ranks _ of Wakandan troops. It’s  _ hope,  _ is what it is, a chance, and Steve breathes out a huff of a laugh. There’s the sorcerer, Steven Strange, half a dozen people Steve’s never met, the kid Peter Parker from Queens, Sam and  _ Bucky _ and- is that-

_ Natasha _ is walking next to Bucky, limping a little but with her head up, the light glinting on her gold-and-red hair. She’s  _ here, _ somehow, alive and her hands are on her pistols,  Behind them, still more people: Wakandans and sorcerers and what looks like Asgardians and is that a  _ pegasus? _ Steve smiles, small and fierce and slow, and takes a deep, steadying breath as they all come up alongside him. He gives Natasha a nod, looks back at their enemies.

“Avengers,” he says through gritted teeth, encompassing the whole damn  _ army  _ that’s suddenly at his back, feeling the power and energy of all their lost returned to them like a palpable force, “assemble.”

…

Natasha fires three rapid shots through an alien’s forehead and whips around looking for her next target, feet slipping slightly on the muddy ground, only to see Carol taking the gauntlet from Peter Parker’s hands and turning to face a much more organized bulk of Thanos’ forces, who all have to have the same goal in mind: getting the stones back for Thanos.

Natasha presses her fingers to her earpiece, looking around and seeing that Pepper, Valkyrie, Okoye, and several of the others are close enough to help. “Danvers is gonna need some backup,” she says, and sees Carol smiling in response and then saying something to Peter.

Natasha draws both her guns, checking their clips, and strides over to Carol, resolute. Their enemies were moving against them already already, she recognized, everything almost in slow motion. Pepper and Hope slam down next to her, planting their feet and curling their hands into fists, and Natasha glances over to nod fiercely at them. Next is Wanda, hands flickering with tendrils of red, her eyes burning and lost. Okoye’s spear twirls silver as she and Shuri step up beside Wanda, shoulders squared with the same determination that turns Natasha’s smile deadly as she double-checks her supply of widow bites. She stops, waits a moment, and breathes.

Then she holds up her hand and flicks her fingers in a clear signal, eyes fixing on the enemies in front of them and Thanos himself, everyone who’s foolishly trying to stand in their way. It’s time to end this.

Gamora and Nebula and the Mantis girl fall in with them too, as they break into a run across the field, and Carol’s deadly lightshow washes the world around them golden as it mixes with Wanda’s blood-red magic. Natasha presses down the pain in her hip from Clint’s attempt to save her, levels her guns at their enemies and fires shot after shot as perfect as she’s always been taught, running, until they crash into a perfect storm of claws and teeth and alien blasters. She bares her own teeth and doesn’t think, just fights with everything she has, every ounce of love and fury and stubbornness. The others are raining down fire, there’s the glint of armor and swords, and she beats down everything that gets in her way until she loses her grip on one of her guns in a scuffle. She doesn’t pause, just reaches for the nearest thing on the ground to her, to use as a bludgeon, fingers closing around something heavy and smooth-handled, and she knows instantly she’s connected to something powerful.

Mjolnir is weighted perfectly, she thinks.

She stares at the weapon in her hand, for a second, feeling electricity curling through her veins, humming against her fingertips, and then she smiles and puts her second gun away, twirls the hammer a bit and smashes in the face of the nearest alien monster, lightning skittering out like a starburst on impact. Somebody cheers at the top of their lungs - she thinks it might be Valkyrie - and she  _ reaches _ for a power she’s never tried to harness before, and it feels like the whole sky answers.

She only has to direct the strike a little with the hammer, send the lightning bolt crashing down in the middle of a seething mass of monsters, and everything turns blue like her widow bites, blinding white, and she tastes ozone.

There’s cheering everywhere. For  _ her, _ she recognizes, vaguely, and she tightens her grip on her new weapon  _ (worthy) _ and sprints forward with the rest of her friends, her  _ family, _ standing with her on every side. No one can take anything from her now.


End file.
